Countering, Democrats will huff that the travails of their dead battery, soft spot, touching turmoil or whatever it is that's inside their boxer's shorts or panties is no one's business, least of all the government, though of course the Democrat-appointed Janet Napolitano and her TSA hordes have set up an enduring base next to their exposed, uh, discount toys. Irradiated and propped up by Cialis, they don't look half bad. Oh yes, they do.
According to Democrats, Obama is a good liberal because he will also send gay men and women worldwide to massacre whoever gets in the way of the oil liberals need to drive their SUVs to anti-war rallies.
According to Republicans, Mitt is a good conservative since he can't stand Ellen DeGeneres, Johnny Weir or Barney the Dinosaur, although he will condemn a husband or wife halfway across the globe to commit unspeakable acts for years, while the remaining spouse languishes at home in anxiety and loneliness, to be comforted by some groggy chick at the bar, talk radio, a young cable guy, Jesus, reruns of American Idol or, in the best case scenario, nothing at all.
On top of that, they've tricked you into being plugged to their various brainwashing machines all day long, so that you're divorced from your very self, honey. Outside, birds, sunshine and mounds of corpses your tax money murdered, though you wouldn't know it, because you're addicted to songs you've heard for the billionth time, each, as well as Snookie updates, pixelated pussies, cocks and boxscores.
Outside, a busking violinist says that his life is easier now, since there are so many out-of-business stores he can play in front of, without being shooed away. Outside, a person, male or female, it's not clear, poses as a horse for tips, as a real horse looks on. Outside, a Vietnam vet drinks mouthwash to get high, while an Iraq vet shows his discharge paper to prove that he is a genuine, disposable piece of fodder, and not just an ordinary panhandler. A pint of Listerine with 21.6% alcohol costs $4.50, compared to a 24 oz., tallboy can of Natural Ice at $1.49, with 5.9 % alcohol, so Listerine is a much, much better value. It's not exactly Jameson, true, but a few gulps will get you buzzed for maybe five hours. Outside, a man sells Newport cigarettes, "Two for a dollar, two for a dollar. Who's next? How are you today? Very good to see you. Welcome back, it's happy Monday. Time to go to work! It's a beautiful day today, but don't get used to it. It's going to rain tomorrow! We all have our own cross to bear, ladies and gentlemen. My, aren't you lovely today! Yes, you! Welcome back!" If he sells the entire pack in an hour, he will make $3.50. Outside, a man drains a leftover soda fished from a trash can in a well-manicured downtown plaza surrounded by bank skyscrapers.
In this land of peeling yet persistent illusions, none is more farcical than the Presidential election, for even as it promises renewal, common purpose, focus and hope, and demands a collective soul searching, even, this elaborate and drawn out ritual will deliver nothing more than a new (or renewed) apologist for the same set of crimes against humanity, country and you. If there's any good to this coming circus, it's that the empire seems determined to maintain a relative peace until the electoral shenanigans are over. Though it's itching for new rounds of shock and awesome, y'all, because that's how it makes its money, it doesn't want to tip this tottering economy into the mother of all ditches, not when citizens are somewhat focused on how to correct or improve our common lot.
If enough machinists, PhDs and war veterans dumpster dive and share a honey bucket, if whores dally in middle-class suburbs and gas goes to 6 bucks, for example, the country will explode from sea to shining sea, and not just because of well-placed FBI agents. With events quickly spiraling out of control, this election may not go as choreographed, family values be damned.